black women

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"Akonadi, the people’s activist." Akonadi is an oracular goddess of justice and a guardian deity for women. Inspired by a Ghananian goddess.    
The past three years have been the hardest strongest most vulnerable time of my life. 2016 granny died suddenly, stage 4 pancreatic cancer two weeks, three days, gone. 
I am often expected to write for someone A loved one A best friend The black race girls I can’t say yes, or no to any of these.
"Oh my gosh you’re sooo sassy” should be tattooed on my foreheadIf I had a dime For every time I spoke my mindWith confidence
Dear White Women, Unkempt, dirty, and strange are three words you’re likely to hear when someone is talking about black hair. Or, instead of talking someone goes straight to walking their hand in it because of its arrogant flare…
tiana didn't ask for a prince she was an entrepeneur she didn't ask for her best friend to be a rich white girl but she took it with grace she wasn't supposed to turn into a frog 
Lightskin was my dream Ignorant to my beauty My reflction was my nightmare But I lived in darkskin  Brown as can be My skin was my hated reality How can I live with such low self esteem
Whoever said “an apple a day keeps the doctor away” must never have met a Black woman. I have not met other people whose presence radiates warmth and sunlight, or another being who has the power
I’ve struggled, oh I’ve struggled, struggled with what weave to order online The perfect weave…the weave that was designed to make me feel beautiful Let’s see where do I want to look like I’m from now?
It doesn't peel away, but I can take it off It makes me feel beautiful But I can wipe it with a cloth. Compliments from boys all day Somehow boosts my confidence, but It's not me, It's my mask they see
I want someone. Someone whose thoughts will collide with mine. Someone whose thoughts shall make love with mine. Someone whose on the same wavelength as me. Someone who can fuck with me.
Why can't we love ourselves,
The media despises us, does not recognize us Dehumanizes us, covers up and disguises us. We seem to symbolize lust, with our large butts and huge bust.
Shades of Her   
                                                 Yeah child I been keeping an eye on you First it was Keith, then it was Jerome, and now Tyrone
i take a trip to the beach at nightlet the sand pinch my toes and when the wind blows i get criticized for low eyes,
Pregnancy has become a synonym for African American statistics. Average has become the definition of that. Holes in condoms. STD’s in a wet spot drowned in low self esteem and rumors made true.
I can't sing but the way you make my heart feel is wonderful and I cant dance but the way you make my body feel is beautiful but you can't run your hands through my hair with your fingers
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